


The Garden Of Forking Paths

by LotusRox



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Porn, Some are canon compliant some are au, i'm putting immediately the tags for the next ones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2018-12-23 05:16:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11982936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LotusRox/pseuds/LotusRox
Summary: Drabble and Ficlet Collection. Mostly gen, some slash, some pre-slash. A lot of these are stand-alones or even AUs, but I'll absolutely tag them as such when there's two or more sharing an universe. Rating E goes for chapters #5 and #6.





	1. Post-Canon / Fluff / Gradence: Stargazing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on a wonderful drawing [ Arbutus Blossoms @ Tumblr](https://arbutus-blossoms.tumblr.com/post/156807798126/your-gravebone-gifs-are-wonderful-and-they-breathe) did for me some months ago. Starting this with fluff!
> 
> ... Don't get used to it.

Credence realized, eyes open, he had never really seen the stars. Not like this.

New York’s night sky had been permanently shrouded in smog and city lights way before he was born. His lungs were used to the ashen taste of its air, the salt of the rivers and the sea whenever he wandered too close to the coastline, the nauseating stench of garbage strewn on the streets during a hot summer day.

He had liked it, the first night he spent at Mr. Graves’ apartment and dared to get close to the window. He had never been so far up, not consciously at least. The shimmer of the lights had dazzled him, made him feel the city indeed had something to offer to him. Maybe. Something beautiful and secret.

Today, though, they had Apparated to the old Graves Manor, somewhere in the Catskills. And as Credence opened the dining room window, stepped into the balcony, the warm smell of earth and grass and dew had almost bowled him over - so unfamiliar and so sweet. And he had looked up.

The city stars were a smattering of fireflies against violet, paling in comparison to the dazzle of and New York's lights. But nothing man-made could stand a chance against the magnificence of the starry sky, eternal and unchanging, displayed like a lazy river of diamonds so close he swore he could touch it.

Credence had been trying hard to let go of his former life and its prejudices, but his first instinct was to think, _this is what being before God must feel like._

There was the slightest quirk in Graves’ mouth as he got closer, held him from behind. He pressed a soft kiss against Credence’s nape.

“You know, I don’t really have an use for this place. But I should have thought of bringing you here sooner.”

“I had never…”

“Been outside the city?”

Credence nodded, but they knew it was more to it than than that. Still, he sighed and relaxed into the embrace. Words felt difficult right now. Some days, he still woke up with his heart racing, convinced the soft sheets of their bed would melt away into cheap sackcloth anytime now. Good things happening to him, they still overwhelmed him from time to time.

Graves wouldn't take this moment from him. He did summon his well-kept Ilvermorny copy of _Night Sky: Astronomy For The Unversed_ from the table with a gesture, but he set it aside on the railing next to the already installed telescope, untouched. He sighed in contentment and looked up as well.

“We can start the lesson later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shot out to [Juls](http://myheadsamesssogimmetheslash.tumblr.com/) at Tumblr, who requested fluff as the inaugural drabble for the collection :3
> 
> I also humbly apologize for the pretentious title of this entire thing.


	2. Prison AU / Drama / Pre-Slash: Law is Blind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically [Walter-Sullivan-Stubble @ Tumblr](http://walter-sullivan-stubble.tumblr.com/post/157329077260/gradencegravebone-prison-au-with-graves-as-a) drew an amazing sequence for a Prison!AU with Gradence, and I was helpless. Couldn't NOT try my hand at it.

_This is what he knows-_

What the new boy had done, it had been in self-defense turned wrong.

Warden Percival Graves had read as much, there was a whole dossier on each of the inmates. Committing them to memory was intensive labor, but he studied them to the best of his capacities before he even had to summon any of them to his office for the first interview. He had been an officer, once - he liked being prepared, the edge it gave him.

So honest, it’s more about following standard procedure than anything, when he pours two glasses of water, steeples his fingers. “Tell me what happened to you, kid.”

Graves had seen younger here, and certainly many who had tried to pull the Sad Repentance routine on him. He had a knack for detecting falseness, shows of innocence performed with a profit in mind.

_This is what he sees-_

Credence Barebone is somber and young in the way a painting might have depicted sorrow. Unchanging, deeply enough the intent of it showed through every gesture.

“I don’t think I want to, Mr. Graves”, he says in the end, voice soft and deeper than Graves had been expecting. The sharp, delicate features of his face had been misleading.

“That’s fine too”, he allows. The inmates had no privacy as it was, and it wasn’t Graves’ job anymore to interrogate them on top of it. “Tell me then, how are you getting used to Sing Sing?”

Barebone retreats further into himself, physically smaller and trembling. And that has Graves furrowing his eyebrows despite himself. This kid, isn’t he in the Medium facilities? It is a men’s state prison, but surely nothing that despicable could have happened to him already, in less than three days since his arrival.

“It’s…”, Barebone mumbles, really, but he tries. “Less than I deserve, sir.”

_Oh?_

Barebone rubs at his temples, mussing his badly cropped hair. Hugs himself, nervous eyes settling on absolutely everything in the office except its owner, lets silence settle between the two of them like a wall.

_This is what he hears-_

Anguish makes Barebone’s voice rougher, but he clarifies in the end, “I deserve worse.”

And Graves, despite years and years of experience, believes the pain in his words is sincere.

He dismisses him soon after, reassuring him of Sunday service and repeating to him the office hours of the counselor. _Yes, it’s non-denominational. No, you cannot skip counseling. Medication? Education? A job? Maybe. It depends. Hopefully._

Self-defense gone wrong by an abused kid. The way the system worked some times…

Credence Barebone leaves and Graves slumps on the seat, haunted by the shadow of defeat lingering in the brown eyes of the boy.

_He says-_

“Fucking hell”, and dumps two fingers of rye in his coffee to push this conversation to the back of his head. At least it looked like Credence would be reluctant to giving him trouble.

He hoped he didn’t have to see him back in his office too soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are all unbeta'd, they're so short :') I'm incredibly happy with the warm welcome this thing is having! Thank you all so much ♥


	3. Pre-Canon / Gen / Gradence: First-Time Sins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in the same universe as [Waves, Soundwaves, Rush.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11778306) Writing the entirety of a longfic set in what I consider my personal Gradence headcanon is, admittedly, beyond my abilities. But I don't think it's going to be the last of the snippets from there I post here :3

The first time Credence saw Mr. Graves do magic, it wasn't anything exuberant.

"I can't go", he muttered, so quiet it got drowned by the fluttering of pigeons flocking twelve feet away. "I.. I really can't. I'm sorry.”

Credence had stood in the opposite side of the street that afternoon, the Woolworth Building towering like a beautiful fortress, equally impregnable. City Hall Park offered no shade at that hour, but the glare of sun had been his excuse to pick that spot over virtually anywhere else from his usual haunts. As if it made easier to hide the berth of his sins.

As if he hadn't been waiting to catch the sight of Mr. Graves leaving his building without the other man knowing it.

He had been drowning in sweat and heat in the same second-hand dark suit he wore come winter or merciless summer, and that had probably been the reason it was so easy for the other man to spot him, come say hello. Seasons went by and Credence never changed. Shame weighed down his back the same way it had back in April when he had met Mr. Graves under a downpour.

It curved worse when Mr. Graves rose one of those thick eyebrows at him, prompted, "the pamphlets again?" as a way for him to not have to explain.

He nodded, avoided his gaze. Those dark eyes of his made something in Credence's belly curl, his heart race with something that felt very much like anxiety and yet left him craving every time.

"But you must be starving, surely."

"It would be... very ungrateful to speak ill of the sustenance I receive, sir."

"Would you humor me anyway? I don't really put aside the time to have lunch these days either, and there's a new diner down the street. You would be doing me a favor by making sure I don't lose my patience before they bring me my sandwich."

Credence closed his eyes and allowed himself to actually feel the hunger knotting in his stomach, in his chest, and shook his head.

"... I-I can't throw them away. I can't. She'd know." 

The first time Credence saw Mr. Graves do magic, it wasn't anything exuberant.

He took the stack of pamphlets, and put them inside the unassuming pocket of his summer jacket. Credence blinked at the incongruity, and the next thing he knew, the older man was patting at the lump until they went away entirely. As if they had never been there to start.

His eyes went wide. But he didn’t say anything. Just rose his eyes in a bid to read Mr. Graves, finding tension in the angles of his shoulders, barely concealed in his face.

In the distance there were traffic sounds and a cooing of pigeons, but his pulse was beating louder, drowning them all. Curiosity was a sin. But so was meeting with Mr. Graves, and so, Credence didn’t run away.

"Now shall we go?", Mr. Graves’ lips quirked in that private way Credence was learning the other man smiled, so very slowly. More with his eyes than with his mouth. “There are some things I want to discuss with you.”

Magic. Magic or a miracle, and whichever it was...

Credence wouldn’t have dared to not follow.


	4. Grindelwald AU / Angst / Gredence: Reach Out And Touch Faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He wouldn’t know love through soft words. For a sodomite, for a Damned, love would happen through the tips of someone else’s fingers, the possessive curl of a grasp in his hair forcing him to his knees to take communion._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _Through a pileup of mistakes earning him a slap, loud enough to blind._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set as a continuation of [Then The Clouds Will Open For Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11680338), wherein a hopeless Credence Barebone chooses to go with Grindelwald in the aftermath of the movie.
> 
>  
> 
> **This chapter includes disjointed, mostly implied sexual content.**
> 
>  
> 
> **CW: Abusive Relationship**

Of course Credence had always known Gellert was going to break his promises. Those were the terms he had accepted. He had wanted to believe that, when the other man had made those vows, he had at least the _intent_ of trying to keep them.

He wouldn’t know love through soft words. For a sodomite, for a Damned, love would happen through the tips of someone else’s fingers, the possessive curl of a grasp in his hair forcing him to his knees to take communion.

Through a pileup of mistakes earning him a slap, loud enough to blind.

Credence stops breathing. Touches his cheek, still sizzling in the impression of his lover's hand and goes, _oh._

Something inside him shuts down immediately. It's not only the sudden disconnection with his own feelings. Right now he can’t remember what he did wrong. It’s just, inside the fog his mind repeats he’s come so far. _He’s come so far_.

He’s been given back _life_ \- hope and a future, set foot in the outside world he had been promised.

He's committed atrocities in these last months.

The Greater Good is meant to be its own reward, but Credence covets by nature, and Gellert's mouth and hands and cock fill the rest of his void. Gellert in a brunet suit, square hands, the solid form of Mr. Graves nailing him to bed to remind Credence he inhabits his own body.

He had had no clue he’d become this loud, really.

Credence covets and yearns and fulfills all his missions. He communes with the Obscurus and together They are invisible plague or electrical storm or enough of a cataclysm to raze a city until there’s no stone left in place.

There is no God, but Gellert is the Prince of Lies anyway. And Mr. Graves sometimes looks into Credence’s eyes while he’s still too fucked out to think, trembling in the aftershocks of pleasure, and says “child, I don’t think you know how precious you are to me.”

He had craved the kisses of that mouth before he knew who it belonged to.

 _“Such a good boy”_ , it says when Credence has earned it, Upper West Side accent smoothing out the praise, and it’s all he has ever wanted.

Does anything else matter now?

 _“You’re beautiful, Credence”,_ and he could never believe it - but when it comes, the words delight his ears like the sound of Mr. Graves’ breathless growls of completion, the silence between them as they lay side by side.

Isn’t this what he had paid for?

 _“Mine. My boy”,_ always his best reward, the binding chain. There’s no such thing as a soul but Credence would’ve sold his thrice over for Gellert to mean it.

At this point, knowledge makes no difference.

It’s for this man Credence learnt to find within himself the savage joy of being made into fire and brimstone, and to rejoice in feeling powerful after eighteen years in Pike Street.

It was his choice. He’s good at it. He is will and strength distilled into a stormcloud.

Gellert’s revolution is just means to Credence’s own end.

Gellert looks at him, mismatched eyes wide with fury still, and Credence is back at the church. Hands slipping down to reach the buckle of the belt he hasn’t worn since last December.

“I’m sorry”, he offers. Quiet, yielding. His failure matters less than appeasing the other man.

“You should”, replies Gellert, tension and frost, and turns around to leave.

Credence recovers the notions of space and time as soon as he’s gone, and the horrified emptiness from seconds before turns into a fist slamming against the wall. Again and again in complete silence until vertigo settles reality back in place.

When it’s him the one who lashes out, the Obscurus stays quiet.

Credence swallows the need to scream himself hoarse the way he learnt as a child and kneels down to clean the plaster dust from the parquet.

It wasn’t going to be the last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Oh boy, you know, I can't even read angst without also wanting a happy ending at all costs.
> 
> Also me: Here, let me write y'all a follow-up for literally the saddest AU I have on my roster.
> 
> All my gratitude goes to Elsie [(Na_Shao)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/na_shao) for betaing this painfest |DDD
> 
> (I feel terrible for being so pleased by the title - a pun that applies to both of them ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯)
> 
> PS: REJOICE, THERE'S NOW A MULTI-CHAPTER CONTINUATION FOR THIS FIC. Find it at **[Lines Of Copper, Lines Of Black.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15642546/chapters/36328335)**


	5. Post-Canon / Porn / Gradence: Baby You Can Ride My Car

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shameless Porn written for a Tumblr Prompt: "47 - In a car/vehicle - Gradence"
> 
> Featuring the first appearance of Graves' car, the sleek, convertible [1927 LaSalle.](http://momentcar.com/images/lasalle-303-1927-8.jpg)

Credence had kept his hand on his thigh during the entirety of the drive. Slowly, slowly climbing up until honestly, Graves had been grateful for the charmed stick. Worrying about changing gears would’ve been dangerous. His boy being this bold, all wordless hunger, had been enough to drive him to distraction.

A pale hand cupped at his cock over his clothes and found him hard. Squeezing in silent delight when Graves sucked in a breath and his foot on the gas pedal faltered.

The Manor wasn’t even close yet. He parked the LaSalle by a side of the road with zero finesse.

“You minx. Are you trying to get us killed?”

“Maybe I trust your driving,” was the soft answer. Someone else might have mistaken Credence’s smile for a shy one.

“Maybe I should pay you back”, Graves retorted right back, eyebrow rising. As if there weren’t heat curling low in his belly, as if he weren’t pressing Credence’s hand against his crotch before forcing it away.

Credence bit his lip. His eyes were a ring of amber over wide-blown pupils.

“Please”, he asked, head tipping back when Graves opened the button of his pants. He inhaled between clenched teeth when the other man wrapped his fingers tight around him, a strangled sound getting trapped in his throat when his lover started pumping, pulling him out of his underclothes entirely.

“Is this what you wanted?”, Graves flicked a thumb over the head, voice growing lower.

Credence whined, legs spreading just so as he confessed, “I, ah. I… may have imagined it the other way around.”

Graves huffed a single, quiet laugh. “That can be arranged”, he said, and leaned down to swallow his cock like a promise of ‘later’.

His boy’s hands scrambled to find purchase on the leather of the seat, hips arching to meet his mouth. It was a cramped space. There wasn’t much more he could do.

Graves held him down and hummed in approval, tongue sliding along the vein on the side as he sucked him in further, and Credence held onto the armrest by the door with white knuckles, nails digging into the upholstery.

The wide bench seat could be tilted far back, Graves remembered. And nobody would bother them there in the middle of the Catskills.

He was glad they hadn’t just Apparated into his family home.


	6. PWP / Porn / Thesival: A Prize On Your Tongue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the same round of Tumblr requests than the previous chapter, my first completed Thesival piece (and of course it had to be porn ♥ )
> 
> "73 - Rimming - Thesival"

There was something to be said about anything that made Percival Graves writhe like he was doing now, Theseus thought to himself, slowly opening him up with wet, purposeful licks. Satisfaction and arousal twined and pooled deep in his belly, made sparks dance in his blood. He let his tongue lie flat against the puckered entrance, tip catching on the rim as he swiped it up. Plunging it in afterwards just for the pleasure making the older man hiss with undignified need, tasting, working his way into his tight passage as far as he could go.

He couldn’t help but pull away then just to press against the mattress, hips swinging. Not for completion but for relief. Perce must’ve noticed, tried to sass him as if that could delete the last five minutes, “the hell are you waiting for?”

No success at all. He sounded breathless, and Theseus grinned at him.

“For you to ask nicely”, he licked his lips, and Merlin, was he a lucky son of a bitch… In front of him there was a picture of debauchery - a thin layer of sweat lending sheen to the skin of his lover, the cock resting against his belly flushed dark and proud. There was coiled power in that body, trembling with unshed tension and arousal.

Graves caught him looking and growled - held his gaze defiant, and possibly irritated. And then pulled Theseus close with his heel, leg thrown over his shoulder.

“You should keep going”, he replied, and Theseus’ mouth went dry.

It could be easily solved.

Eating Graves out was a reward on itself. Hearing Graves slowly growing lost enough to moan his name was the best of bonuses.


End file.
